THE DATE

Later that night…

Kyoka Jiro stood in front of her mirror, one hand on her hip, the other adjusting the collar of her deep burgundy cropped jacket. Black jeans hugged her figure, ripped just enough to keep the punk aesthetic alive, while her boots were polished—well, as polished as combat boots got. Her hair was loosely tousled, styled with care to look effortless.

She hadn't planned on putting in this much effort.

And yet… here she was, mascara on point, lips with a touch of berry tint, heart drumming a little faster than usual.

Then—buzz.

Her phone vibrated.

Nova: Outside. And yes… I brought dessert.

She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Cocky bastard."

Still, she grabbed her phone, one last glance in the mirror… and left.

---

Outside her apartment:

Nova leaned against a sleek black motorcycle, one boot resting on the curb, dressed in a fitted leather jacket, dark slacks, and a loose black shirt open at the collar.

He can only say that fusion between Upgrade and Brainstorm or Upgrade and Grey Matter is bane for technology. With in few moments he created a perfectly legal identity, bank accounts etc. Then he transferred some money from his system to the bank and brought this bike and clothes.

An Echo Echo clone of his is now taking care of Eri. He also removed any digital trace of Eri from records. He is going to take her to mutant school back in Marvel. Well just because he felt like it.

Jiro stepped out and arched a brow. "Dessert in a bag? Should I be worried?"

He lifted it slightly. "Double-chocolate lava cake. Still warm. You'd be amazed what money and charm can get you from a five-star chef in under twenty minutes."

She crossed her arms. "That supposed to impress me?"

He smirked. "Not yet. That's for after dinner."

"Uh-huh," she said, eyes scanning the bike. "You better not drive like an idiot."

He walked toward her, offering the extra helmet. "Please. I only speed when the ride's boring. You? You're anything but."

She took the helmet, sliding it on with practiced ease, but her voice was sharp. "One wrong move, I'll unplug your eardrums with a bass drop."

Nova laughed as he got on the bike. "Deal."

As Jiro climbed on behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist, she leaned in, her breath hot against his neck.

----

The engine purred as Nova kicked off the curb, the black bike gliding effortlessly into the night. The streets blurred with passing lights, and the wind whipped past them, cool and biting—yet oddly freeing.

Jiro's grip tightened just a bit as they rounded the first corner. Not out of fear. Just… precaution. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Nova's voice drifted back, carried over the wind. "You okay back there, Rockstar? You're awful quiet."

"I'm just trying not to get bugs in my mouth while you pretend to be in Fast & Furious."

"Relax," he chuckled. "You'll know when I actually start driving recklessly."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

But despite the words, she was smiling. The cityscape gleamed like a river of stars ahead, and the engine's growl vibrated through her body like a distant bassline. Her cheek pressed briefly to his back, and for a moment, she let herself enjoy it.

Nova leaned a bit into a turn, deliberately letting the rear wheel slide ever so slightly before stabilizing. Showy. Controlled.

"You call that a turn?" Jiro called out over the wind. "I've seen children drive do better in those toy cars of theirs."

He laughed, pure and rich. "Ouch. And here I was thinking I had you clinging like your life depended on it."

She leaned forward, voice dropping to a sultry whisper right in his ear. "Oh, you wish I was clinging for that reason."

Nova grinned. "Keep talking like that and I will show you what these curves can really do."

"Oh yeah?" Jiro smirked. "Then do it—unless you're scared you'll scream louder than your engine."

Nova's eyes glinted behind his visor.

"Oh, you want to play it that way?"

Without warning—he braked.

Hard.

Jiro yelped, the sudden stop jerking her forward. She slammed right into his back, arms tightening involuntarily as her body collided with his. Her chest pressed against him, her helmet bumping into his shoulder.

"Nova!" she snapped. "What the hell?!"

He turned slightly, voice way too calm. "Sorry. Cat ran across the street."

"There's no cat, you ass!" she said, smacking his arm with a gloved fist. "You did that on purpose!"

He laughed. "Yeah, but it worked. You're clinging even harder now."

She didn't move, still pressed against his back.

"...I hate you," she muttered.

"You're not exactly letting go."

She hesitated, then gave a low laugh, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "God, you're so full of yourself."

"Guilty as charged."

"Fine. You win this round."

Nova smirked and revved the engine again, smoother this time. "Good. Then hold on. I know a spot that's quiet, has a view, and I swear no more brake checks."

"...Unless you want me to slam into you again?"

He chuckled low. "No complaints if you do."

And with that, the bike peeled back into motion—sleek, fast, and this time, with Jiro pressed against him.

----

The low rumble of the bike faded as Nova killed the engine and swung a leg over. Jiro hopped off behind him, unclipping her helmet and shaking her hair loose, letting the breeze toss it around her shoulders.

"Not bad," she said, adjusting her jacket. "You actually didn't drive like a maniac."

Nova smirked. "See? I can be responsible… when I feel like it."

She gave him a side glance. "So the chaos is a choice, not a symptom."

"Exactly," he said, walking ahead toward the rooftop door. "Controlled chaos. Sexy, right?"

Jiro snorted. "If by sexy you mean mildly concerning—sure."

He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon. Admit it. You liked it."

She shrugged. "The ride? Yeah. You? Jury's still out."

Nova held the rooftop door open for her, gesturing dramatically. "Well then, allow me to bribe the jury—with a little firelight, food, and my devilish charm."

She stepped inside, pausing as she saw the setup. String lights swayed above a table for two, flickering candles casting shadows across sleek dishes. The scent of warm, rich food hung in the air.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I'll give you this—didn't think you had rooftop dates in your playbook."

"I'm full of surprises," Nova said, walking over to uncover the dishes. "Also full of well-executed plans. You're just hard to impress."

He spent a lot of money for booking entire rooftop.

"I take that as a compliment." She slid into her seat. "Means I'm not easy."

He chuckled. "You don't strike me as the easy type. More like… high risk, high reward."

They began eating. For a few minutes, it was calm—occasional banter, the clink of cutlery, the wind tugging at the edges of the rooftop.

"So," she asked between bites, "this whole polished rooftop dinner thing… practiced or improvised?"

"Bit of both," he said. "I figured you deserved effort. You're not the kind of girl who settles for average."

She eyed him. "Flattery? Already? You're slipping."

"Not flattery," he replied, grinning. "Observation. You've got bite, Jiro. Edge. You make people work for your attention."

She tilted her head. "And you like that?"

Nova leaned in, lowering his voice. "I crave it."

She blinked, but smirked. "Mm. You say 'crave' like you're starving."

"Oh, I am," he said, locking eyes with her. "Starving for tension. Banter. That little smirk you try to hide when you're pretending I'm not getting to you."

Jiro took a sip from her glass. "You're projecting. That smirk's just me enjoying dinner."

He leaned back. "So you're telling me you're not at all interested in the guy who brought you candlelight and lava cake?"

She licked a bit of sauce off her thumb deliberately slow. "Depends. Is he planning to behave himself?"

Nova chuckled darkly. "Absolutely not."

"That's what I figured."

A beat.

"You know," she added, twirling her fork, "you've got a mouth on you."

Nova gave her a crooked smile. "It's got a few uses. Want a demo?"

She didn't flinch. "Bold. But if you're offering samples, I hope you're not the kind that brags and underdelivers."

"Oh, I deliver," he said, eyes glinting. "With options. Fast… slow… hands-on…"

"You keep talking like that," she said, cutting her food with pointed precision, "and I might start charging you by the minute."

Nova laughed and raised his hand and soft strum of a bass guitar echoed across the rooftop, smooth and deep—followed by a mellow rhythm that bled into a sultry groove. Jiro blinked, glancing around.

"Wait… is that live audio?"

Nova simply smiled, standing and offering his hand. "I thought a little mood music might help. You know, let you feel the beat… before I make you lose it."

She narrowed her eyes—smirking despite herself. "You always this cheesy?"

"I'm just warming up."

She rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his. He tugged her up with ease, the candlelight catching the slight blush on her cheeks.

Their bodies found the rhythm almost instantly—Jiro's hips swaying to the beat, Nova matching her movement with a practiced ease that made it clear: he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Not bad," she said, arms sliding around his neck. "You dance too?"

"I do a lot of things," he replied, hands settling at her waist, thumbs teasing just above her belt line. "But this is nice. You. Me. The night."

She leaned close, their noses almost brushing. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Casanova. I'm only here for dessert."

"Then let me be the spoon," he said, lips curling into a smirk.

She laughed—soft, genuine—then spun in place. Her back pressed to his front, grinding her ass deliberatly with the beat as she looked at him over her shoulder.

Feeling her tight ass, Nova's hands slid to her hips, holding her with a little more pressure as his body moved in sync with hers. The air grew thicker, the space between them vanishing into heat and breath and rhythm.

After a few moments of Jiro moving her hips, her hand reached back, fingers curling around the back of his neck as she pulled him in close—cheek brushing against his jaw, lips grazing his ear.

"My parents," she whispered, the heat in her voice making his pulse spike, "aren't home tonight."

Nova's breath caught and suddenly he smiled.

Then he chuckled, deep and low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear in return. "Is that a threat… or an invitation?"

She didn't answer. Not with words.

Instead, she turned in his arms and pressed against him, grabbing his jacket and tugging him forward until their lips were almost touching.

"You said you deliver," she murmured. "Time to prove it."

He leaned in—slowly, deliberately, until their lips finally met in a kiss that was just as bold, hungry, and electric as their banter.

Nova picked her by hips and spun her around, still kissing her.

XxxxX

READ 10+CHAPTERS AHEAD ON MY PATREON CHANNEL:- patreon.com/Ghost_0007

CHAPTER:- [100- WAY BIG] IS AVAILABLE ON MY PATREON FOR EARLY ACESS

https://www.patreon.com/Ghost_0007?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator